Keep that sense of humor.

Sent from my iPhone

> On Jul 14, 2016, at 4:48 AM, john schwery <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> 
> Sandy, yeah, right.  I John 1:9.
> 
> 
> earlier, Sandy Scovell, wrote:
>> Actually, I never learned how to type. That's what the problem is.
>> 
>> Sent from my iPhone
>> 
>>> On Jul 13, 2016, at 2:44 PM, john schwery <[log in to unmask] > wrote:
>>> 
>>> Sandy, did you do your post by dictation.  If so, did you mean husband instead of has been?  Interesting comparison, husband and has been.  Ha!
>>> 
>>> 
>>> earlier, Sandy Scovell, wrote:
>>>> John, I find this extremely refreshing. In my mind and when I prayed with my has been about things it seemed that going down the lane on the farm where I live was like a haven of rest. I still catch my mental thoughts going there when things are tough. Thank you.
>>>> 
>>>> Sent from my iPhone
>>>> 
>>>>> On Jul 13, 2016, at 5:09 AM, john s <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>>>> 
>>>>> Growing up on a farm in Iowa, I like this one.  The water from the hydrant was so good.  My brothers would tell me to let it run for a minute to clear up any rust.
>>>>> 
>>>>> text of forwarded message follows:
>>>>>> From: Hand In Hand <[log in to unmask]>
>>>>>> 
>>>>>> What a comforting picture this one paints in my mind . . . .
>>>>>> 
>>>>>> "There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God." Hebrews 4:9
>>>>>>  
>>>>>> Back on the farm, the lazy days of July meant turning our horses out to summertime pasture.  The grass was lush and ready for grazing.  However, before we opened the gates, it was the responsibility of my sisters and me to saddle up and "ride the fences" to check for broken barbed wire.  After hours of riding my horse under the summer sun, my weary mount would be wet with sweat, her head hanging low.  I had to urge her to put one tired foot in front of the other.
>>>>>>  
>>>>>> Then as soon as my horse caught a whiff of home or recognized the fences of her own pasture, her ears would pick up and her pace would quicken.  The nearer the barn, the more eager her trot.  After a quick unsaddling, she'd roll in the dirt and take long, slow drinks from the trough.  How good it feels, for a beast, to be home.
>>>>>>  
>>>>>> How good it will feel for us to be home.  No more toiling, no more prying the world's suction cups off my heart.  Hebrews 4:9 is like a long drink of cool water on a hot day.  Maybe the writers of the Bible -- some whose joints were stiff from chains that chafed -- had this sweet rest in mind, a rest that perked them up and quickened their pace.  Toward the end of their lives, they wrote vigorous encouragements like "Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest."  (Hebrews 4:11)
>>>>>>  
>>>>>> "So watch your step.  Use your head.  Make the most of every chance you get.  These are desperate times!"  (Eph. 5:15-16 The Message).  Make every effort to redeem the time, lay up your treasures in heaven, live as if God were watching (He is!).  Make it your ambition to be pleasing to Him (2 Cor. 5:9).  The lush green pastures of rest are just over the horizon.  Remember this as you collapse in bed tonight after an exhausting day.
>>>>>>  
>>>>>> Today's thought makes my earthly toil seem so much lighter.  If I become weary today, Lord, remind me of the pastures of my heavenly home.
>>>>>> 
>>>>>> Blessings,
>>>>>> Joni and Friends
>>>>> text of forwarded message ends:
>>>>> 
>>>>> John